"Life should not be a journey to heaven with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming - WOW---What A Ride!"

You got out of a bad relationship because it was bad,
but you are still resentful and angry.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You got out of financial debt, but you still can't control
the desire to spend on frivolous things.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You got out of a bad habit or addiction,
but you still long to try it just one more time.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You said, I forgive you, but you can't seem to forget
and have peace with that person.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You told your unequally yoked mate that it was over,
but you still continue to call.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You got out of that horribly oppressive job, but you're still
trying to sabotage the company after you've left.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You cut off the affair with that married man/woman,
but you still lust after him/her.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You broke off your relationship with that hurtful, abusive
person, but you are suspicious and distrusting of every new
person you meet.
You let the devil leave his bags.

You decided to let go of the past hurts from growing up in an
unstable family environment, yet you believe you are unworthy of
love from others, and you refuse to get attached to anyone.
You let the devil leave his bags.

Senior Version Of Jesus Loves Me
>
> JESUS LOVES ME
> Jesus loves me, this I know,
> Though my hair is white as snow
> Though my sight is growing dim,
> Still He bids me trust in Him.
> (CHORUS)
> YES, JESUS LOVES ME.. YES, JESUS LOVES ME..
> YES, JESUS LOVES ME FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO.
> Though my steps are oh, so slow,
> With my hand in His I'll go
> On through life, let come what may,
> He'll be there to lead the way.
> (CHORUS)
> When the nights are dark and long,
> In my heart He puts a song.
> Telling me in words so clear,
> 'Have no fear, for I am near.'
> (CHORUS)
> When my work on earth is done,
> And life's victories have been won.
> He will take me home above,
> Then I'll understand His love
> (CHORUS)
> I love Jesus, does He know?
> Have I ever told Him so?
> Jesus loves to hear me say,
> That I love Him every day.
> (CHORUS)

"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." Pericles

I went to church today...in Assisi. It is one of only two
Anglican churches in Umbria, Italy, and this one has only been
going for a year now.

I am the churchwarden. I, for my sins, was standing a little
too close to the minister when he was looking for a volunteer.

After the service we had a lunch together in a superb local
restaurant, about twelve of us, and over the lunch we discussed
the quality of the communion wine. It was not as good as we
normally have and there were a few complaints, especially from
our minister.

It was...alright, but just not as good as usual.

I explained that it was left in the bottle from last time and
had probably gone off a bit. I had taken along a new unopened
bottle of Vinto Santo, the Italian equivalent of sherry, but
decided not to use it as the other wine seemed drinkable.

I apologized to the group for my decision. Then I said, "Hey,
exactly what are we complaining about here? It is not the
quality of the wine that counts, but surely the quality of the
prayer that goes with it!"

There was a deathly silence. "Of course!" said everyone at
once, "We have all completely missed the point!"

Our church is VERY beautiful. It is one of the most beautiful
churches in Assisi, and they don't come much more beautiful...
anywhere! It is also extremely difficult to get to as, unless
you actually live in Assisi, you can't just drive straight in.
The police stop you. You have to park way outside and walk.

My 86-year-old mother-in-law comes with us and I have to get
special permission from the police each time to drop her at the
church door, but then I have to drive out, park, and walk all
the way back in.

After the service I have to walk all the way back out, get the
car, convince the policeman that I am going to get my mother-in-
law from church, drive in, and drive back out again.

We were very lucky to get the use of the church. The Roman
Catholic bishop of Assisi had to give his special permission for
us Anglicans to use it. It has the most wonderful frescoes,
a wonderful hall with the most wonderful terrace with the most
wonderful view.

However, nobody needs to give us permission to pray;
nobody needs frescoes to pray,
and we often lose sight of the really important things.

The difficulty of getting to this church makes it even more
important to me to make the effort to be there.

Never mind the wine;
never mind the frescoes;
never mind the walk...

~A MountainWings Original by subscriber Graham Lane, Italy~

In case you didn't know (I didn't), a fresco is a painting but not
a normal painting that you hang on the wall, but the painting of
pictures on the wall itself. They are therefore immovable and
often hundreds of years old, needing special care to preserve
them for future generations to see.

Click below to see one of the frescoes in the church.
http://www.mountainwings.com/past/fresco.htm

The 92-year-old petite, well-poised and proud lady,
who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock,
with her hair fashionably fixed and makeup perfectly applied
even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.

Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move
necessary.

After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the
nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready.

As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator,
I provided a visual description of her tiny room,
including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window.
"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old
having just been presented with a new puppy.

"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room... just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied.
"Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time.
Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the
furniture is arranged... it's how I arrange my mind."

"I've already decided to love it.
It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up.
I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed
recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that
no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones
that do.

Each day is a gift and as long as my eyes open,
I'll focus on the new day
and all the happy memories I've stored away
just for this time in my life."

"Old age is like a bank account.
You withdraw from what you've put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness
in the bank account of memories."

"Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank.
I am still depositing."